


Names and doubts and what they lost

by buttonless



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Not Canon Compliant, amputee bucky, bucky survives the war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 16:30:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3215900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttonless/pseuds/buttonless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If it’s a girl,” James says as he crawls into bed, “I think we should name her after your mother.”</p>
<p>Peggy scrunches up her nose and shakes her head at the thought, lifting her right arm up so he can slide beneath it.  </p>
<p>"Not a chance."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Names and doubts and what they lost

“If it’s a girl,” James says as he crawls into bed, “I think we should name her after your mother.”

 

Peggy scrunches up her nose and shakes her head at the thought, lifting her right arm up so he can slide beneath it.

 

“Not a chance,” she tells him as he lays his head against her chest and wraps a protective arm across her torso before she settles back with her newspaper perched between her knees.

 

“Well, we ain’t naming her after mine, that’s for sure. She’s already got three grandkids, she doesn’t need the next one to be a namesake, too,” he says.

 

“Your mother has been an absolute delight,” Peggy chides him teasingly.  “She put up with untold hooliganism from you and Steve and Becca growing up, and is a perfect saint when you bring an English girl home from the war- A girl who refuses to marry you-”

 

“Oh, we all knew you were going to give into my devilish charms eventually, Peg-”

 

“And treats me like a second daughter without knowing a single thing about me-”

 

“Well, you did have my recommendation-”

 

“And now her own son doesn’t want to name a daughter after her!  Why, if Winifred Barnes could hear you now,” Peggy scolds.

 

“If my mother can hear into this bedroom, then we have much bigger concerns than her thoughts on baby names,” Bucky replies, looking up at his wife with a smirk and a wink that Peggy returns with a peal of laughter.

 

“I appreciate the thought, James,” Peggy tells him, once he stops wiggling his eyebrows obscenely.  “And I think it’s very sweet of you, to suggest it- But I know so little of my mother. I do not need to honor a memory I do not have.”

 

She remembers, better than she would like, what it was to be alone.  Knowing all her school friends had families and homes to go back to over the holidays, and she had only the memories of a kind father and the faint hope of a visit from distant uncle.  It’s different now, though. She has the entire extended Barnes clan and the Commando’s and their wives, and a monthly letter from her cousin Harrison, and even the Starks and Jarvis.

 

And she has James. And their child, soon. She has all the family she needs.

 

“Well, the offer still stands,” Bucky says sincerely. “I want you to be just as excited as I am, you know?”

 

“We are not naming our daughter ‘Maude Barnes,’ and that’s that,” Peggy says definitively and Bucky begins snorting loudly.

 

“Maude? Shit, I forgot her name was Maude,” he laughs into her chest.  “ _Maude._ ”

 

Peggy folds her newspaper up and places it on the nightstand with her glasses, turning off the lamp as her husband’s giggles subside.

 

“You’re going to push me right off the mattress, budge back over to the center.”

 

 “So bossy, Mrs. Barnes!”

 

“Oh, as if you don’t like it,” she teases, and Bucky makes a noise of strong agreement, pressing his lips to her bare clavicle so that she feels him humming against her skin.  

 

“James?”

 

“Hmm,” he replies.

 

“What you just said earlier- About wanting me to be as excited as you are-”

 

“Oh, shit, Peggy- I didn’t mean it like that, shit, I swear, I’m such an ass-”

 

“I know, I know, it’s all right,” she soothes. “It’s just… What if… What if I’m not… As excited as you are?”

 

He rolls away from her and onto his stomach so he can prop himself up on his arm and look at her.

 

“How do you mean?”

 

Peggy bites on her upper lip and stares at their ceiling.

 

“You’re just so… Confident, I guess? In me,” she clarifies.

 

“Course I’m confident in you, Peggy,” he murmurs. “You’re my sure thing, my never-let-me-down-yet gal, and you sure as hell aren’t about to.  What’s this about?”

 

“I’m just worried,” she mumbles. She keeps looking at the ceiling, even though it seems utterly silly to do so.  “You’re so ready for this, to be a father.  And you’re going to be an excellent one, everyone knows it. I’m just not so sure about me.”

 

“Yeah, you’re going to be a pretty shit father, I reckon,” he replies, and his tone is just so damn pleased with himself that she has to turn to look at him, just so he can see how far back she rolls her eyes.

 

“You know what I meant.”

 

“Well, everything we’ve talked about before still stands,” Bucky tells her, referencing the numerous conversations they’ve had together.  Before she got pregnant, before they started considering children, before they got married.

 

“So long as you still want to be there, I’ll carry you to the office myself.”

 

“It’s not work I’m worried about,” Peggy says.

 

They’ve already been over this, and Bucky has made perfectly clear that he expects her to be at SHIELD for as long as she wants. He already does his writing from home, and as he’d explained, he _can_ change a diaper one-handed, though she felt the sentiment was a bit invalidated as he does everything one-handed.  She knows she’ll have long hours and she’ll miss things a mother shouldn’t miss and that she’ll be criticized for it by everyone and their brother. She’s made her peace with that.

 

“I just don’t think I’m very good with kids,” she admits.

 

“Where the hell did you get that idea?”  

 

Bucky seems personally affronted by the notion, and she almost laughs at the scandalized look on his face.

 

“Well, your nieces seem scared of me half the time, and Tony cries when I hold him-”

 

“Shit, Peg,” Bucky swears.  “First of all- The Stark kid cries when _anyone_ holds him, he’s the damn fussiest baby I’ve ever met-”

 

“He’s doesn’t cry when you hold him-”

 

“That’s only because he’s a perceptive little shit, and he knows I’m liable to drop him if he gets too squirrely and everyone would side with me on account of my being crippled-”

 

“No one would side with you if you _dropped_ him, for heaven’s sake-”

 

“And again, Tony cries at _everything._ The fact that he doesn’t outright howl when you hold him probably means he likes you!  And Michael’s never cried when you hold him, I don’t think.”

 

“I’ve only ever held Michael after he’s fallen asleep on Becca,” Peggy protests.

 

“And you didn’t wake him!  Becca says he wakes up whenever he gets moved to someone else. But not you.”

 

“Becca does _not_ say that.  You just made that up.”

 

“All right, I might have,” Bucky concedes. “But infants have poor taste, Peggy. They don’t know shit about anything. If ours doesn’t like you, so what? Once the kid grows a bit, they’ll wise up and see how amazing you are, I guarantee.”

 

“Your nieces look frightened everytime I walk into a room,” she reminds him.

 

Bucky winces.

 

“I might have a confession. The girls aren’t _scared_ of you, exactly,” he says slowly.  “Just very, very, very in awe.”

 

Peggy frowns in confusion.

 

“I might- Tell them stories about your adventures? Slightly exaggerated stories,” Bucky admits quickly.  “About how you single handedly destroyed Nazi bases and rescued their Uncle Bucky from the frozen Alps, losing only my arm and your favorite nylons in the process-”

 

“James Buchannan Barnes!”

 

She thought he’d stopped telling that story- She’d gotten tired of correcting people that she had used a _bandage_ as a tourniquet, not her damn nylons, because why in the hell would she have gone on a rescue mission unprepared to deal with injury? Honestly.

 

“And of course, your recent exploits: Protecting the President from certain danger, covert missions into enemy territory-”

 

“I cannot believe you,” Peggy exclaims.

 

“So really, the girls are just slightly intimidated by you,” Bucky says cheerfully.

 

“Oh my god,” Peggy mutters, grabbing a pillow from behind her head and hitting him soundly in the chest with it. “Is this why they still address me as ‘Agent Carter’?”

 

“I may have told them what happened to that asshole who called you ‘Mrs. Barnes’ during that meeting in Washington with the brass,” he admits with a smile, settling down onto the offending pillow.

 

“Oh my god,” she repeats.  “I cannot believe this.”

 

“Really, Pegs, they think the world of you, honest!”

 

“They’re probably terrified of me!”

 

“No, no, no,” Bucky soothes. “I mean.., Maybe a little? But they always ask me for stories about you!  And Jody brings me newspaper articles and demands to know if you were involved! It’s adorable,” he says. “And if they knew they could ask _you_ instead of me, then Uncle Bucky would become useless,” he pouts.

 

“I cannot believe you lie to your nieces about my life,” Peggy tells him, scandalized.  “No, wait, I can _completely_ believe that.”

 

“They want to be just like you when they grow up, it’s very cute,” he says.

 

“No wonder I thought they didn’t like me,” she mutters. “I should have known it was your fault.”

 

“I am sorry,” Bucky says genuinely. “Honestly.  I guess I didn’t realize how they were acting. And I didn’t even think about how it might effect you. I really am sorry, Pegs.”

 

She sighs, a long exhale through her nose.

 

“Look, let’s you and me take the girls out soon,” Bucky suggests.  “I know Becca and Harold could use a break, and Debbie and Jody would jump at the chance to do pretty much _anything_ with you. A movie, or an exhibit, or shopping,” he says.

 

“But what if-”

 

“Peggy, those girls _love_ you, I guarantee it.  And I’ll be there the whole time-”

 

“Spinning lies, no doubt-”

 

“Being silent and supportive,” he grins. “You’re a great aunt, Peggy. It’s my fault you didn’t know.”

 

“Even if you’re right-”

 

“Course I’m right,” Bucky replies cheekily.

 

“I’m still… I’m just nervous, James, all right? Stop making fun,” she tells him, and his expression sobers up immediately. “I don’t know the first thing about being a mother,” she admits.  “And I’m going to muck it up.”

 

He looks at her for a long minute before he replies.

 

“Margaret Carter Barnes.  You are a _wonderful_ woman. You are going to be a _wonderful_ mother.  Our child is so, so damn lucky to have you.  I am so damn lucky to have you-”

 

“James, please,” Peggy interrupts, horrified by the blush that’s heating her face.

 

“And I’m not sure how exactly I’m going to prove that you, whether it’s by borrowing my sister’s kids until you feel comfortable, or by reassuring you every day for the next nine months-”

 

“It’s considerably more like eight at this point-”

 

“Or just by letting time pass so you can realize it yourself, but I swear- This kid and I love you already, and nothing’s gonna change that.  No matter what anyone- including, and especially, you,” he says with a pointed glare at her, “Says otherwise.  Do we understand each other?”

 

“We understand each other,” she mumbles, embarrassed as she always is when Bucky forgets to make everything into a punchline and makes it sentimental instead.   

 

“Excellent,” he says, leaning over to press a kiss against her lips, and she can’t help but smile into it.

 

“Gabe’s going to be in town for the next two weeks,” Bucky says after he’s propped himself back onto his side of the bed. “I’m taking him down to get lumber next Saturday, I think- Maybe you could spend the day with Becca, and then we could take the girls out on Sunday after mass?”

 

“I’d like that,” Peggy says with a smile. “Though, you could always _buy_ a crib-”

 

Bucky snorts loudly. “I told you at dinner, Peggy,” he insists, “It shouldn’t be too hard to make-”

 

“I know, I know,” she relents. It’s odd for both of them, to have the sort of disposable income they’ve enjoyed since Peggy was promoted and Bucky sold his last book, but she knows it’s especially foreign to him.  But he seems quite hung up on the idea of making the cradle himself, and she doubts having money to buy seven would convince him out of the concept.

 

“Gonna be much better than something out of some store,” he grouses cheerfully at her.  “Just you wait and see.”

 

She kisses him on the cheek.  “Of course, dear. I’m sure it will be splendid.”

 

Bucky smiles lazily at her, reaching behind him to readjust his pillows.

 

“Maude,” Bucky whispers, horrified, once he’s curled himself around her, his cut-off shoulder tucked between her arm and side and his good hand resting gently on her hip, his thumb tracing circles into her side. “Maude Barnes. It’d be a crime, giving such a pretty girl such an unfortunate name.”

 

“I’m sure she’d bear it well,” Peggy murmurs. “But all the same, I’d rather not have to find out.”

 

“I’ve always liked Grace, for a girl,” Bucky says quietly.

 

“What about Anne?”

 

“Annie’s better, I think,” he answers.

 

“Then you can call her Annie,” Peggy replies with a yawn, dropping a kiss to his scalp.  “And the rest of us can call her Anne.”

 

Bucky gives a sleepy laugh, and they trade names until someone drifts to sleep.

 

Neither of them bother with suggesting boy’s names. If it’s a son, they know what they will name him.  They know who they will name him for.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is part of a larger story called 'Waiting Caskets' that I am working on, in which Bucky wasn't found by Zola but Steve still crashed the Valkyrie. But I accidentally wrote this first and had too much fun with writing Bucky and Peggy as being happy. Which is a problem because I am going to ruin that happiness. 
> 
>  
> 
> So I wanted this to stand on it's own, so that we can imagine the happy ending implied.
> 
>  
> 
> If I ever get around to finishing 'Waiting Caskets,' this piece will fit within it, but it will have a much sadder context.
> 
> I am a terror to myself.


End file.
